


The Return of One James Buchanan Barnes

by Charmed_Frostgiant



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4271430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charmed_Frostgiant/pseuds/Charmed_Frostgiant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wakes up in the middle of the night with the Winter Soldier standing over him, memories having somewhat returned. Starts out with a slow burn and both men still getting used to one another as they try to figure out modern eccentricities together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Return of One James Buchanan Barnes

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd, so please let me know if you spot any mistakes.

“I knew you.”   
Those three simple words would occasionally haunt his dreams, more like nightmares if he was honest about it. He’d never actually heard them spoken directly to him, but he could see them in those eyes, in that deadly blank stare on the helicarrier before it went down. That flash of recognition only lasted for a moment after he’d pledged his fealty, promising his long lost friend that he’d be there with him until the end of the line. His shield was somewhere in the Potomac, sinking into its depths and soon after, the failing craft he was on would follow. When he told the soldier to finish it, something within them broke at the same time. Whether it was their resolve to complete their respective missions or simply their hearts, he didn’t know. It didn’t look like the soldier knew either. He remembered falling and then hitting the water. He was too tired to swim to the surface, slowly sinking to the bottom, believing that his time had come. Even he had limits; mortality had finally caught up with him.   
It had been months since the fall of SHIELD, fewer still after the fall of Ultron. His thoughts never strayed far from the soldier even when he was busy training new recruits and completing new missions that seemed to get more outrageous each time he stepped out in his suit with his shield strapped to his arm. He still spent what little free time he had searching for his lost friend, who truly was a ghost and lived up to that moniker. Those three simple words drifted through his mind as he slept, the first night in a long time where he hadn’t been dreaming or forced awake by his own screams and panic in the dark. It took a moment for him to realize that he wasn’t dreaming and those words had been spoken out loud, reaching his ears in the early hours of the morning.   
Maybe he’d imagined it. That had to be it. He was so tired that he was hearing voices. He rolled over from sleeping on his stomach and stretched out with a yawn. He didn’t feel the looming presence next to him in the quiet sanctuary of his bedroom. He didn’t hear the muffled noise of exasperation or see the roll of the soldier’s eyes in the dark.  
“Christ, Stevie … I’ve been here for over an hour while you talked in your sleep.”  
He bolted upright in bed, head snapping in the direction of the voice. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and all that he could see was the glint of metal and that was only because of the faint light of the alarm clock that had cast enough of a glow to reach that far. The soldier was in all black then, blending in with the dark shadows that covered the wall he was leaning against. The voice sounded a little hoarse, like it hadn’t been used in a while and maybe a little uncertain.  
“Buck?”  
This wasn’t how he had pictured coming face to face with the soldier. His heart was pounding, but not out of fear necessarily. He’d been woken from a deep sleep to find someone in his room, who had admittedly been just standing there for an hour watching over him. If the soldier had wanted him dead, he would’ve been already. His head was swarming, adrenaline kicking in but he stayed still. It wouldn’t do to frighten the soldier off now, not when he was so close after all of this time. The soldier had called him Stevie, a name he hadn’t been called since the forties and no one living now had ever called him that. So the soldier had remembered something from their past.  
He rubbed at his eyes and let his shoulders slump. It had been seventy some years since he’d had a proper look at Bucky Barnes and spoke with him. There were so many things that Steve Rogers wanted to say and wanted to tell him but words failed him right now. Maybe it was the same for Bucky, standing there staring down at Steve as if he’d seen a ghost of his own. Maybe it was like that if he had started to remember things now, or maybe he just didn’t know what to do, just like Steve.  
“I’m sorry.”  
The Captain’s voice was quiet and small in the dark, wavering because he’d waited decades to be able to say this out loud, never thinking that he would have the chance until he joined Bucky at the Pearly Gates, if they both managed to make it there. Steve sat there, finally scooting back to lean against his headboard, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands tiredly. The exhaustion didn’t come from the lack of sleep, but from the enormity of what had happened to his best friend throughout the years.  
“Wasn’t your fault, punk.”  
Steve felt his lungs seize up. It had been ages since he’d had this feeling, not since before the serum. It wasn’t an asthma attack like it would’ve been all of those years ago, but it felt nearly the same and he let out a soft wheeze when he tried to breathe. It was like he’d forgotten how to and it didn’t help that his eyes were blurry and wet. He’d blamed himself for Bucky’s fall and everything that had happened after. He’d read the file and it was horrifying. His best friend had been tortured, turned into a deadly weapon and had his life ruined because couldn’t act in time to save him.  
“Wasn’t it? I-I … I shouldn’t have let you fall. I should’ve looked for you after.” There were a lot of things Steve felt he should’ve done back then, but this was the most important. If only he’d found Bucky before Zola had experimented on him or went searching that ravine after the fall, Bucky wouldn’t went through the hell that had been his life for the past seventy years. He was about to go on until a growl from the dark silenced him, forcing him to look up.  
“Damn it, Stevie. I shouldn’t have lived. You … you didn’t know. Stop,” he commanded, finally stepping out from the shadows and into the dim light. He looked like he was contemplating, calculating his next move, before he took a seat on the bed at Steve’s feet. He looked like he’d been through hell, his hair long and shaggy and unkempt. The bags under his eyes were dark and he’d lost weight since Steve had last seen him on the helicarrier. He didn’t have handlers and scientists to tend to his baser needs and he looked like he was suffering for it.  
“Jesus, Buck. Let me fix you something to eat. You wanna shower? I’ve got something you can wear.”  
“That’s not … I didn’t come here for all of that. I came here because I remember. Well, some of it.”  
“Oh. I’m hungry anyways so I’ll just fix extra and you can eat if you want.” It was a lie, and the soldier gave Steve a look that told him he knew it was but he remained silent as he watched Steve. He wouldn’t push Bucky into talking about anything yet. Steve just wanted to take of Bucky’s basic needs first.  
“It’ll take a while, so I’ll lay out a few towels and some clothes and you can do what you want.” Steve fought the urge to pull Bucky into his arms and hug him to his chest and never let go, but he figured that wouldn’t go over so well, best friends or not. Bucky was still his best man, the man on his six or at his side but he knew things had changed between them. The last time they’d been face to face, the soldier was trying to kill him and nearly succeeded.  
With carefully controlled movements, Steve slipped out of bed and flipped the bathroom light on before he pulled two towels and washcloth from the linen closet, setting them next to Bucky. A minute later, he walked out of his closet with a pair of sweats and a tee shirt slung over an arm before he went and pulled out a pair of boxers from one of his dresser drawers. He laid these out next to the towels before he went to fetch a pair of pajama pants for himself after he’d noticed that he was only in his boxers.  
Whether Bucky would stay and take Steve up on his offer was in question, as his face was still blank and he said nothing as his eyes tracked every movement the Captain made. Steve was trying to keep it casual, giving Bucky a choice. He deliberately turned his back on the soldier throughout getting everything together, because it was a gesture that wouldn’t be lost on his old friend. It took a lot of trust to do something like, especially after what they’d been through months before.  
“So … I’ll be out in the kitchen if you need anything. Take your time.” His shield was still leaning against the wall next to his bed but he left it where it was, closing the door behind him. He was vulnerable, unarmed and his heart was still racing. Steve’s hands were trembling as he reached for the refrigerator door. He wasn’t the worst cook, but it was two in the morning and he didn’t even know what Bucky liked. He knew what they used to eat back in the forties but what if his friend’s tastes changed since then? The Captain let out a breath he’d been holding since he’d been in his bedroom and braced his hands on his thighs as his head dropped.  
“You’re overthinking it, Stevie. Just fix an omelet and some toast. Coffee if you’ve got it.” He hadn’t even heard the bedroom door open, or the footsteps that stopped beside him. He felt a cold metal hand on his back before it jerked away and fell to the soldier’s side.  
Steve straightened up and took a deep breath with his eyes closed before he turned to face the man that stood next to him, eyes opening. “I know. It’s just that … I missed ya’, jerk.”  
Something flashed in the soldier’s eyes, recognition, and he cracked a small smile. It was Bucky’s usual lopsided grin and Steve smiled back, letting out a soft laugh. “I can manage an omelet,” he said sheepishly, shooing Bucky away. “Go … I’m fine, really.”  
Buck stood there for a moment, obviously thinking and not trusting Steve completely at his word. He could see the worry in Steve’s eyes, but he could see the relief in the set of his broad shoulders and the slowing pace of his breathing by the way his chest moved. The Captain wasn’t a threat. He hadn’t been a threat since he put down his shield and declared that he wasn’t going to fight the Winter Soldier. It had been the first time he’d backed down from a fight the entire time he’d known Steve.  
The soldier nodded and retreated, backing away from the Captain but never turning his back, even as he went through the door. Steve wasn’t a threat but he never turned his back on anyone. Some habits of the asset weren’t easily broken it seemed.  
Steve went about cracking a dozen eggs and beating them with a whisk after he’d added some heavy cream. Vegetables had been diced and the cheese grated, because he refused to be completely lazy even if modern conveniences allowed him to skip these steps and buy things ready to go. It was cathartic, chopping away at mushrooms, onions and tomatoes. He was about to start the bacon to frying when he heard an anguished sob coming from the bathroom. The sound of the running water did nothing to disguise it. He quickly washed up and cautiously opened the door to his bedroom.  
The bathroom door had been left open and the room was filled with steam from the running shower. The soldier’s leather suit was neatly folded, boots beside it next to the bathroom door. The soldier wouldn’t go anywhere unarmed and Steve didn’t see any weapons visible in the room so he had to assume that they were in the bathroom with Bucky, so he had better be careful when he approached.   
“Hey Buck? You okay?”  
“M’fine,” he heard after a loud sniffle.  
“I’m coming in, so don’t shoot, okay?”  
“M’fine,” Bucky repeated weakly. “I’m just … it’s … I can’t do this, Stevie.”  
“Can’t do what?” Steve was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the frame. Bucky was a huddled in on himself, sitting in the bathtub under the hot spray of water while he slowly rocked. Steve edged closer and sat down on the floor of the bathroom facing Bucky.  
“I can’t be him, Stevie. I’m … I’ll never be the guy you remember, not after what I’ve done.”  
Steve had waited months for this moment, when he’d hopefully see Bucky again. He’d thought about what he’d say, what to expect but it still hadn’t prepared him for this. Steve never expected to be woken up in the middle of the early morning with Bucky just standing there and he certainly didn’t expect him to be this calm. Even given the former sergeant’s state, the Captain considered this calm. He knew that Bucky would be unstable and maybe even violent. He was prepared for a physical reaction but not this, not the broken shell of a man he once knew.  
“I don’t want the man you were, Buck. I just want you, yeah? None of that was your fault, none of it. No one blames you.”  
Flesh and metal fingers curled into wet, stringy strands of long hair and pulled as the soldier let out a scream. Steve was worried that he’d said the wrong thing but he wasn’t going to lie to Bucky or leave his side. He was on his knees, leaning over as he gripped the soldier’s chin and gently forced it up so that he could meet the other’s eyes. They weren’t blank anymore, but filled with anguish and other emotions that Steve couldn’t possibly fathom right now.  
“When I started to remember, it wasn’t just the things before the war or during. It was everything. The missions … I c-can’t stop it.” The soldier’s jaw was tight and clenched, neck muscles straining as his head fell back against the tiles, cracking them. When he dropped his chin to his chest, there were smears of blood left on the white surface where the tile was broken.  
“Buck, don’t do this.”  
“Do what, Stevie?”  
“Punish yourself.”   
Telling Bucky that none of this was his fault wasn’t going to do much good right now, but Steve wasn’t going to sit back and let him hurt himself over it. The soldier wasn’t the cocky sergeant anymore, though he still had the boyish face he once did even when it was marred by doubt and self-hate at the moment.  
“Let’s get you cleaned up and fed and then maybe you’ll sleep, hmmm?”  
“What are you, my ma?”  
“James Buchanan Barnes, you’ll turn into a prune if you stay in the bath much longer!” Steve shrieked out in his best impression of how he remembered Bucky’s mom all those years ago.  
Steve heard a snort come from the man beside him, followed by the upturn of that strong chin in his direction. “Jesus, Stevie … you’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that?”  
“Yeah? Well at least some things haven’t changed since the forties, right?”  
The Captain knew that he was walking a fine line here with Bucky. He couldn’t pretend that everything was perfectly fine for long, but he would give the soldier the time he needed until he felt like talking about this, whatever this was. This Bucky wasn’t the same man he’d known decades ago, but he seemed to be remembering things that only a best friend would know.  
“Will … will you stay in here while I finish up?”  
“Yeah, sure. Uh, can I move your arsenal off the john so I can sit down?”  
It was impressive really, the number of guns, knives and other tools of death that Bucky managed to carry on his person without it being noticeable. Steve wondered how many pockets that leather suit had and how Bucky remembered where he stashed everything.  
The former sergeant started to look a little antsy at the thought of someone handling his weapons, especially when he was this vulnerable. Steve should’ve known better and he started to shake his head, settling back down against the bathroom wall, sitting side by side next to Bucky with only the bathtub between them.   
“It’s all right, I’ll just stay here. I promise not to touch, Scout’s Honor.”  
Another snort sounded out and a metal hand shot out to catch Steve’s wrist before his hand raised, as if he was giving an oath with his first three fingers raised while his thumb and pinky crossed over his hand, touching. “You were never a Boy Scout, Stevie.”  
“Wanted to be but ya’ know how it was back then. I couldn’t even run a lap.”  
“Still can’t believe you’re some big blond ass. Before, you were just … Steve.”  
Bucky still hadn’t moved from his seat in the bathtub, but his eyes were distant and he was clearly remembering things from the past. “You barely weighed ninety pounds even when wet. I remember … I remember that you used to be so sick and we lived together after your ma died. I tried to take care of you but you wouldn’t let me, Stevie. You were so damn stubborn and then I got shipped out. I almost went AWOL just to stay behind. I didn’t want to leave you but you wouldn’t let me.”  
“Wasn’t gonna let you ruin your life for me, Buck. ‘Sides, I ended up following you anyways, right?”  
“I couldn’t believe that my best friend was wearing tights and selling war bonds back home. Christ, Stevie … tights. You even wore them in the camp!”  
After a brief silence between them, they both started to laugh until there were tears in their eyes. Steve finally let out a sigh and nudged Bucky with his shoulder. “Hey jerk, hot water doesn’t last forever in the future so if you wanna take a hot shower, you better do it now.”  
“Will you stay? I’ll only be a few minutes. Promise.”  
“Get to it then. Haven’t got all day, Buck, not if I’m gonna fix us breakfast.”  
Bucky stood up and pulled the shower curtain shut, efficiently scrubbing himself clean from the sound of it. Some habits never die, Steve thought to himself. They rarely had the chance for long, hot showers in the small apartment they shared before the war, and they had gotten used to washing up in cold creeks and lakes when they were in the war. This was a luxury that Steve was still getting used to after being thawed out. He hadn’t dared take a cold shower since then, even when it was hot out. The water stopped running and the bathroom was filled with the smell of soap and shampoo, the shower curtain finally opening.  
“I left the towels on your bed and I don’t want to drip on your floor,” the soldier said as he started to wring out his freshly washed hair.  
Steve looked up from his seat on the bathroom floor, eyes following the strong legs up and over the rest of the Bucky’s body. It was still a familiar sight, with the exception of the metal arm. The skin was scarred with metal joined flesh but he didn’t let his eyes linger there for too long before he met Bucky’s eyes.  
“See something ya’ like, Stevie?”  
“Shut up, jerk.” Steve knew his face was flushed and pink, but he stood and turned to face Bucky anyways, because he wasn’t going to take his eyes off of him if he could help it. “It’s just … it’s good to have you back. I’ve missed you. I know things aren’t the same,” he explained when Bucky went to say something, “but I’m still glad you’re here, Buck. I’ll get your towel.”  
He didn’t want to leave the small bathroom, afraid that if he left and came back, the man standing in his shower would be gone. It was a stupid thought because there was only one way out of the bathroom, but it was still a fear Steve had. Maybe this was just another dream. Steve came back with a towel in one hand, and the clothes he’d sat out in the other.  
“I’ll leave you to it. There’s an extra toothbrush in the drawer, and a comb … anything you need is in the medicine cabinet. I’m gonna go and finish breakfast but come get me if you need anything.”  
Bucky gave Steve a lazy salute and took the towel and clothes with a silent nod. “I’m not gonna run, if that’s what you’re thinking. Go on and fix me something to eat,” Bucky said with a wave of his hand.  
“Ingrate,” Steve muttered as he turned to go, pausing in the doorway, “you can stay for as long as you want.”  
By the time Bucky had wandered out to the kitchen, Steve was nearly finished making the omelets and the toast was ready to be buttered, so he slid the plate over to the soldier and the butter followed. “Make yourself useful.”  
Bucky picked up the dull knife, looking like he was contemplating something before he started to butter the slices of toast. “Been awhile since I’ve done anything … normal.”  
“It’s pretty boring here when I have time off. Think you can handle that?”  
“Boring is good. I can do boring.”  
It felt so normal having Bucky here in his kitchen, but it was far from normal. The soldier had come out in nothing but sweat pants and a holster that held his pistols close to his ribs. There were probably knives stashed somewhere too, but Steve wasn’t going to question Bucky about that right now.  
“All right, but you’re asking for it. I usually spend my Saturdays watching the History Channel.”  
Steve had wandered over to the cabinet above the coffee maker and pulled out a few cups before setting them down on the counter and pouring them each a cup of coffee. Hopefully Bucky still took his black, or at least that’s what Steve remembered.  
“What’s a History Channel?” Bucky asked as Steve handed him one of the cups. “Please tell me this is actual coffee and not just brown water,” he said with a snort, blowing over the surface of the hot liquid.  
“I’ll show you the History Channel later and really?” Steve remembered back to those times when they had hardly any money and everything was being rationed. The coffee they would make was so weak that it was like drinking hot water with only a hint of coffee flavor and color. “I could water it down if it makes you feel better.”  
Bucky had already emptied half of the cup and was looking at Steve with wide, innocent eyes as he cradled the cup to his chest. “No, no … it’s just that I haven’t had a decent cup of joe in ages, Steve. This is really good.”  
“I’d hope so. You have no idea how much good coffee costs these days. Can’t buy a loaf of bread for a dime anymore either and milk is nearly five dollars a gallon. “   
“You’re shitting me, Stevie,” the soldier said in disbelief.   
Steve shook his head and grinned as he sat his cup down and started to fix their plates with omelets, bacon and toast. It was enough food to feed six people but Bucky looked like he needed it. “Nope. A lot’s changed since the forties and some things haven’t, but I think it’s for the better. Dames work more now and some of them make more money than their husbands. You can carry your telephone in your pocket and … well, there’s a lot of stuff. I’m still learning.”  
“Huh,” Bucky mumbled through a large bite of his omelet, closing his eyes and savoring the hot food in his mouth. “I’m pretty sure this is the first decent meal I’ve had in seventy years.”  
“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groaned out, “if I’d known that I would’ve fixed something fancy, but the neighbors might have thought I’d went nuts if I started grilling steaks this early in the morning.”  
“Nah, this is perfect,” he said between bites of crispy bacon. “Better than eating garbage,” the soldier said with a grim smile.  
Steve shook his head and put down his fork, forgetting the food on his plate for a moment. He’d figured that Bucky had been on his own for a few months, left to fend for himself after the fall of SHIELD and HYDRA. He had no money probably and it wasn’t like he could just walk into a restaurant and go unnoticed or maybe he could but chose not to.  
“You could’ve come sooner. I wouldn’t have turned you away, Buck.”  
“No, I couldn’t … I really didn’t start remembering things until about a month ago and then you were busy, out on missions I guess. Looks like you damn near got yourself killed, dumbass. Is that how it’s been since they … since they found you?”  
“Yeah, I’ve been busy since I thawed out. You missed the aliens. That was fun … the robots not so much. Well, androids, I think. I don’t know. You’d have to ask Stark about that. I’m not sure what they were really.”   
“So you’re still saving the world?”  
“Just doing my job, Buck.”  
Bucky let out a long sigh, looking like he wanted to argue but he kept silent, eating his food until his plate was clear. Steve pushed over what was left of his bacon in the soldier’s direction before he got up and brought the coffee over, pouring them both another cup. The Captain didn’t know what he was doing. Sam was better at these things than he was. Maybe he should call Sam. No, that wasn’t such a good idea right now. Sam might tell someone and they’d try to take Bucky from him.  
“What is it, Stevie?”  
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to help you.”  
“You can’t fuck me up any worse than they did, trust me.”   
“You’re not f-fu … there’s nothing wrong with you.”  
“Still can’t cuss, can you?”  
Steve’s face was already beet red and hot at nearly slipping earlier but his shoulders slumped as he finally said, “Fine, fuck it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. Happy now?”  
“You kiss your ma with that mouth?”  
“I used to kiss you with it and you didn’t mind so much.”  
“Yeah, about that,” Bucky said sheepishly, cheeks a rosy pink as he went on, “were we … together?”  
“It’s not like I took you out on dates like a dame, but yeah … we were together when we could be. I mean, we were in the middle of a war so it was kind of hard to be alone. We didn’t um, you know …”  
“We didn’t fuck,” Bucky said dryly with a small grin, “because you wanted it to be special.”  
“I didn’t want our first time to be in some field in the middle of France or …”  
“On some military base. I remember. I remembered that I loved you but back then, we couldn’t say anything about it. Is it true that it doesn’t matter? That people like us don’t have to hide it anymore?”  
“People like us?” It took a moment for Steve to figure out what Bucky meant by that and he let out a soft chuckle. “You mean gays and bisexuals?”  
“Is that what they call it now?”  
“Yeah. Most people don’t care anymore but there’s some that still don’t like it. Can’t make everyone happy.”  
“Stevie …”  
“I still love you, Buck. Nothing changed that. Not Peggy and not what happened to you. I know it’s not the same for you, and I don’t expect you love me back.”  
“Shut up and listen for a minute, punk. I didn’t, well I did forget for seventy years, but I still feel it.”  
“Are you saying that you still love me, jerk?”  
“Yeah, I am.”   
“It’s good to have you back, Buck. I mean it.”  
“Yeah? ‘Til the end of the line, pal.”


End file.
